Within Silence

By Rashmeet Kaur

It’s strange the way alone feelsIn the midst of a bustling crowdThe feeling of a yawning emptinessRefusing to unveil its shroudYet when I find a placeWithout other people’s noiseThe thoughts in my head begin to beatTo my heart’s thrumming poiseMaking their own kind of musicClanging against their ribbed jailA mélange of negotiations made betweenTwo parties on opposite ends of the scaleCausing a pandemonium of shiversTo ratchet through my twinesCarrying a drove of stubbornnessRefusing to read between the linesAssuring me that sacrifice is meant to go both waysAnd promises are surely made only to be keptSafety cannot just be an illusionAnd humans more than specimens left to dissectIt’s strange the way silence feelsLike dousing flames with dreamsRealizing that a combination of consonants and vowelsAre waiting to burst through my carefully stitched seams